


Close Calls

by islandgirl



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: 911week2020, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:47:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25206448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/islandgirl/pseuds/islandgirl
Summary: ‘If anything ever happens to me, will you look out for Chris?’When Eddie had asked that of him months ago, Buck had always thought of it as a ‘just in case’, not an inevitability. Like having a life vest under your seat in an airplane or packing a reserve chute when sky diving; it’s there if you ever need it, but you hope to god you won’t. It’s not that Buck is living in denial, he knows the risks of their jobs, knows how many close calls they’ve had; it’s just that he never actually considered what would happen if Eddie didn’t make it out.For 911 Week 2020 Day 5 Prompt: "It's okay, you can cry" + comfort
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 224





	Close Calls

_‘If anything ever happens to me, will you look out for Chris?’_

When Eddie had asked that of him months ago, Buck had always thought of it as a ‘just in case’, not an inevitability. Like having a life vest under your seat in an airplane or packing a reserve chute when sky diving; it’s there if you ever need it, but you hope to god you won’t. It’s not that Buck is living in denial, he knows the risks of their jobs, knows how many close calls they’ve had; it’s just that he never actually considered what would happen if Eddie didn’t make it out.

Now though, he’s wishing he’d spent even just a little time thinking it through as he carries Christopher down the maze off halls in the hospital. The kid hasn’t said a word since Buck picked him up an hour ago, pajamas and all, from the house. He knew. The moment Buck walked in the house, covered in smears of soot and still half-dressed in his turnout gear, all alone, Chris’s smile fell from his face, eyes wide with worry.

“Dad?” he asked, voice wobbling as he scooted out from under Carla’s arm.

“He got hurt, buddy,” Buck forced out, kneeling next to the couch. “He’s gonna be okay. I’m gonna take you to him.”

After that, Christopher had latched on to him, little arms wrapping around his neck as he pressed his face in Buck’s shoulder. Carla pressed her lips together, drawing in a sharp breath as she watched them. It took nothing for Buck to stand up, pulling Chris’s lanky body up with him and settling the kid on his hip. There were no tears, no sobs, not even a whimper from him; Christopher remained quiet as he tried to bury himself further into Buck’s hold.

Even now, walking down the quiet of the hospital hallways in the middle of the night, Christopher remains silent. Buck slows to a stop at the end of the hall and nudges the partially closed door open with his boot. Inside, Eddie lays on the hospital bed, lit by the dim light reflecting off the ceiling. The knot of fear eases inside Buck’s chest just a little as he takes in the steady rise and fall of Eddie’s chest, the steady blip of a pulse he can see on the monitor, and the lack of medical equipment haloing the bed. He looks better than the last time Buck had seen him, just a few short hours ago when Buck had pulled him up from the rubble of the basement, blood sluicing down the side of his face, every inch of exposed skin red and blistering with burns. Now’s he’s cleaned up, a small bandage nestled in the crook of his hairline near his temple, burns on his neck and jaw treated and looking less angry. Besides the heart monitor and oximeter on his finger, and the thin nasal cannula running under his nose, Buck could almost pretend Eddie is just sleeping. Almost.

Taking a shuddering deep breath, Buck runs a soothing hand up Christopher’s back. “Hey buddy, you wanna see your dad?”

Christopher picks his head up from Buck’s shoulder, eyes heavy with worry and tears.He blinks owlishly at Buck for a moment, like he was caught up in his own head and didn’t know where they were. Buck feels his throat constrict around the ball of emotions building his his chest and fights hard to keep his voice steady.

“He’s okay, Christopher,” Buck tries again. “He’s got a bandage on his head and some burns on his neck. And some bruises. He’s just resting now, okay?”

Christopher nods his head, eyes lingering on Buck for a moment, like he’s looking for the lie, like he’s waiting for Buck to crack. Buck holds strong, never wavering. Finally Christopher slowly turns his head and looks at Eddie, his little face crumbling in grief. No tears come though. Just like before, he remains quiet.

Buck eases Christopher down onto the side of the bed next to Eddie and lets him have a moment alone with his dad. He drags the chair over to the side of the bed and eases his tired, aching body in to it. It’s not the most comfortable chair, but it’s the first time he’s sat down, besides the car, in several hours. Leaning forward, Buck allows himself a moment to feel it, to feel everything. The exhaustion, the ache in his bones, the fear of losing Eddie, the worry, the guilt, the heaviness of his commitment to the Diaz family. It all sits like a yoke around his neck, threatening to pull him to the ground. He won’t let it though because Eddie needs him. Because Christopher needs him. And he won’t let them down.

Picking his head up, Buck scrubs a hand across his face, dirt and soot smearing even more. On the bed, Christopher has draped himself gently across Eddie’s belly, his head resting at the edge of Eddie’s ribcage. His eyes are wide as they take in every detail of his father’s injured body, little fingers idly tracing the edge of the peeling tape around Eddie’s IV. Every once in a while, Christopher takes a shuttering breath, his eyes squeezing shut and his face scrunching up like he’s going to sneeze. Then he relaxes, lips wobbling on exhale, eyes glittering with tears. It hits Buck like a punch to the gut. 

Christopher is holding back his tears.

“Oh buddy,” Buck breaths softly. His throat physically aches with the need to cry but he swallows it down along with everything else. He holds his arms out to Christopher and the boy gently climbs off his father and curls up in Buck’s arms.

Buck thinks of all the words that were said to Christopher, meant to be words of encouragement, but somehow have become twisted into something much less. _Be a brave boy. You’ve got to be strong like your dad._ Buck gently runs a hair through Christopher’s curls, pulling the boy against his chest, wrapping him up in his arms like he’s seen Eddie do numerous times before. Christopher was just a kid. No one should expect him to be strong and brave in the face of something like this.

“It’s okay, buddy,” Buck murmurs, lips pressed against Christopher’s temple. “It’s okay to be sad or worried about your dad. It’s okay to be scared. Whatever you are feeling right now, bud, I promise you, it’s okay.”

Christopher pulls back a bit, searching Buck’s eyes for any hint of a lie. “I’m scared,” he admits quietly. “I’m scared he’s going to go to heaven, just like mom.”

“I was scared too,” Buck tells him, voice strained. “I was scared of not being able to help him. But he’s going to be okay. The doctor is making sure of that.”

Christopher nods, staring at Eddie’s unmoving form on the bed. Buck can see the way his eyes are glittering with tears, the way his lip is quivering, and feels his own heart breaking inside his chest.

“It’s okay, you can cry,” Buck tells him softly, running a hand up his back. He can feel the moment the dam breaks, a small tremble running through Christopher’s body before he turns his head and buries himself against Buck’s chest, the force of the sobs cause his body shake. Buck just holds him tighter, rocking him gently back and forth.

“It’s okay, buddy. I’m here. We’ll get through this. It’s gonna be okay,” Buck murmurs over and over, squeezing his own eyes shut for a moment to keep his own emotions in check. When he opens his eyes, he finds Eddie barely awake, staring at them with bleary eyes. When a small smile quirks up the ends of his lips, Buck knows he’s right. Everything is going to be okay.

* * *

Two days in the hospital is two days too long if you ask Eddie. Okay, maybe a day and half too long since he was unconscious for the first few hours. Everything after that though seemed like overkill. The moment he tried to protest, he was shut down quickly by, not only Buck, but Christopher as well. Their combined glares were enough to pin him in bed and shut him up.

Coming home is a welcome reprieve. No visiting hours keeping him from his boys, no nurses bothering him in the middle of the night with vitals checks, and no more questionable hospital food. He can’t wait to take a shower tonight, read a story with Christopher, then curl up in his own bed with Buck tucked to his side. It’s all he wants and everything he needs. 

He’s fine really. Knows just how lucky he is to have survived that kind of fall and walk away relatively unscathed. He’s bruised up his ribs and his back pretty badly and there are healing first and second degree burns on his neck and jaw from where his mask and protective cowl shifted after the fall. But there are no broken bones, no fractures, no internal injuries, not even a concussion, though he does still have a monster of a headache. All in all, Eddie knows he’s a lucky man.

Try telling that to his two _home nurses_ by the names of Christopher and Buck. They’ve been hovering around him like helicopters since he woke up in the hospital. He gets it, he does. They were both scared and worried about him, the fear of losing him a little to real for both of them. This was another close call in a too long list of close calls recently so he tries his best to be patient with them. 

Eddie had thought coming home would make it easier, ease their minds a bit. If the doctors said he was good enough to leave the hospital then they had no reason to worry, right? 

Wrong. If anything, things have only gotten worse in the few hours since they’ve been home. Christopher is extra hyper one moment, sitting on the couch next to Eddie telling him animated tales about his day at school. Then suddenly a sullen look will come over his face, like a storm cloud passing in front of the sun. And once, just once, his little elbow nudged into Eddie’s ribs at a tender spot causing him to wince. Christopher’s eyes popped wide as he jumped away from Eddie, putting a good two feet of space between them. His little eyes had glittered with tears for twenty minutes afterward, even when Eddie tried to tell him he was okay.

And Buck? Well Buck is … a whirlwind. Eddie is used to the other man’s high energy and need to move, but this is just something else entirely. In the hours since they’ve been home, Eddie doesn’t think he’s seen Buck stop moving once. Somehow he’s buzzing around the house and hovering in Eddie’s orbit at the same time. One minute he’s sorting laundry to throw in the washer and the next he’s at Eddie’s side, holding him steady when a wave a dizziness overtakes him when he tries to stand. Then Buck’s back to making dinner, helping Christopher with his homework while he folds laundry, and yet somehow he’s back to Eddie’s side with a dose of pain meds before the ache in his ribs becomes unbearable. Eddie’s exhausted just watching him go, zipping through the house like a one-man show, giving Eddie that typical, happy-go-lucky Buck smile every time he passes.

There are cracks starting to show, though, Eddie can see it in his eyes. Buck has got to be exhausted; his ‘I’m fine’ mask wearing thin. Eddie doesn’t know exactly how those two days he was in the hospital went, but he knows that Buck’s been running himself ragged to keep Christopher on his normal schedule as well as keep up with the housework, not to mention Buck’s own shifts and appointments thrown in there. He doesn’t know when the last time Buck slept is, but he can see the dark circles taking root under his eyes.

“I got it, Eds,” Buck swoops in and takes the plate from him before he can even think about getting up to clear it himself.

Eddie reaches out and grabs his wrist, halting his movements. “I can clear my own plate, Buck,” Eddie tells him softly. 

“You can’t lift anything, Dad,” Christopher is quick to remind him. 

He’d always been proud of having such a smart kid, but now it’s beginning to bite him in the ass, Eddie realizes. Chris had paid very close attention to what the doctors had said before Eddie left the hospital. And while Eddie is sure the doctors meant lifting heavy objects, Christopher took the ‘no lifting’ literally. Eddie has not been allowed to lift anything. At all. The kid even snatched the packet of discharge papers from his hands at the hospital.

Eddie opens his mouth, ready to negate Christopher, but quickly snaps his mouth shut. Despite the effort he’s put forth today, he is finding his energy waning. He has enough left to fight one more battle tonight and it’s not going to with his kid over how much he can lift. No, it’s with Buck.

When he glances up at his boyfriend, he can see the storm of emotions brewing just beneath the surface. He’s trying to hide it behind his charming smile, but Eddie can see the worry in the small crease of his brow and the unmanaged grief in the lines around his tired eyes.

“It’s all right, Buck. I can get it,” Eddie tells him softly. “I’m okay.”

The words are meant to reassure, to ease some of the weight pulling his shoulders down, but judging by the way Buck reacts, they seem more like targeted missile strikes meant to destroy. Buck sucks in a breath, sharp and quick. His fingers clench around the plate still in his grip, muscles trembling under Eddie’s palm. The worst, though, is the way tears spring to his eyes making them red-rimmed, accentuating the dark circles even more. The tears don’t fall though. Buck just presses his lips together firmly and tries to pull away. Eddie refuses to let him.

“Eddie,” he whines quietly, face turned away from where Eddie and Christopher are still sitting at the table.

“Buck? Look at me.”

Eddie moves to his feet, thankful that the world stays steady under his feet for once, and slides his hands up to Buck’s shoulders, holding firm. At the table, Christopher watches them with a sad look on his face. For a moment, Eddie doesn’t think Buck is going to comply. Hesitantly though, he does; Buck turns his head back to face them. 

Eddie thinks back to that blurry moment he woke to in the hospital room, to the way Buck had held his son and reassured him. Buck had told Christopher it was okay to cry, to feel and express whatever emotions he was feeling, but had Buck? Had Buck taken a moment since everything had happened to process everything? He doubts it, judging by the broken look on Buck’s face staring at him now.

“Look at me, Buck. I am okay,” Eddie tells him, giving Buck’s shoulders a gentle squeeze to accentuate the words. “I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like for you, watching the floor collapse and digging me out. Then having to tell Chris.”

Buck makes a soft strangled noise in the back of his throat as his face starts to crumble.

“And you’ve been amazing, helping Chris through it, helping me through it,” Eddie sweeps a hand up to cup the side of Buck’s neck, thumb grazing his jaw. “Now let us help you through it. Whatever you need, okay? We are here for you. Right, Chris?”

Christopher nods, pushing up from the table and all but attaching himself to Buck’s leg like a koala. Buck lets out a wet chuckle, breaking his hold with Eddie enough to slip his arm beneath Christopher and hoist him up to Buck’s hip. Christopher rests his head on Buck’s shoulder for a moment, fingers tangling in the neck of Buck’s shirt.

“It’s okay,” Christopher hums against Buck’s neck. “You can cry if you need to.”

And that’s the last crack before the damn breaks. Eddie watches as Buck’s face crumbles, the first tears slipping free from his eyes as he presses his face into Eddie’s shoulder. All the worries and fears and what-ifs draining away as Eddie and Christopher hold and reassure him. 

They are firefighters, running into danger is their job. They know there will be scares and close calls. And a day may come when one of them doesn’t make it out alive. For now though, they have each other and that’s all they really need.

**Author's Note:**

> Day late and a dollar short, but here ya go! Also, we back to Buddie so we good ;)
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/cptmeatball)!


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